Unexpected
by BlueBlanket88
Summary: After the war, Sarah and James have married and established a family, while Henri struggled to protect his own in France. With turmoil increasing in France, what will happen when Henri sends his young daughter across the Atlantic to join Sarah and James?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my second Liberty's Kids story however this one is intended to be long term. Haha...we will see. James and Sarah are married, if you can't tell, and Henri is in France. Henri is sending his eleven year-old daughter to the Hiller takes place roughly around the tail end of the French Revolution when Robespierre takes over, and the Reign of Terror is about to begin.

Disclaimer: I do not own Liberty's Kids or any of the characters.

The wayward sea crashed violently against the Boston pier as James Hiller stood in a familiar spot. What seemed like a lifetime ago he had waited impatiently for a Miss Phillips to arrive in the then American Colonies. Now Mr. Hiller stood in the United States, married to the same woman that had once caused him an incredible amount of agitation. However, this time James was pacing alone, unable to complain to Moses, and not about to unknowingly meet his future wife.

Through the foggy distance he could see a well-endowed ship approaching. He forcibly reached into his pocket uncovering an ordinary folded piece of parchment. It was not the item itself that interested him but the written word inside. Perhaps he had overlooked a section where Henri revealed it was all a farce and that he was not sending his French eleven year-old Daughter to live with James and Sarah. James scoured the letter hoping to find such a proclamation but to no avail. Henri had assumed sending his beloved young daughter into the tender care of the Hiller Household would be permissible. In normal circumstances, Sarah and James would merrily accept this child as if she was one of their own. But the Hillers only received the message a week ago, making preparations difficult.

Upon receiving the letter, Sarah was frantically about the house with a list of unpleasant chores for their three children. James imagined his eldest child, Ann, eagerly awaiting to scrub the floor, wash the windows, and dust furniture in an effort to help her mother while his youngest, Ben, begrudgingly did what he was told. Of course, the middle child, Lucy, would have outwitted them all and hid in the attic by now, not returning until necessary. In fact, if James were not required to pick up Henri's daughter immediately, he would have been stuck in the house attempting to avoid his wife's demanding gaze.

Such short notice made it nearly impossible for James to arrive in Boston punctually. Did Henri remember that James lived in Philadelphia, located in an entirely different state? Or had French geography consumed Henri's mind? He was terrified he would have to confront a sobbing French child who had been waiting alone for many hours. Or worse someone would discover and lure the girl away from the meeting spot. Luckily, the ship had not arrived on time, as he probably should have expected in the first place.

James reread Henri's letter once more.

_My trusted friend James, _

_I am afraid I have news of extreme importance. It seems that there will never be peace in this beautiful country we call France. Even after establishing a new government the country is filled with corruption. The Jacobins, a radical political party, are growing in power. They have captured my old ward Lafayette and imprisoned him! _

_ Maximilien Robespierre, a Jacobin and head of the Committee of Public Safety), has targeted and charged many claiming they are "enemies of the revolution" even though they had supported it. He brutally executes them using fixed evidence, weeding out what he believes to be the unenlightened citizens. Robespierre is a dangerous man who will destroy those who are not as radical as him._

_God knows I have seen enough violence and revolution to last a lifetime, even when I support the cause, however this is all my daughter, Ginette, has ever known. She was born into this French Revolution and has never seen a proper democracy in action. I humbly wish you to take her into your home until this chaos diminishes. I have snuck her safely out of France and she will arrive in the Boston port on the 25__th__ of September. Please, take care of her. She is what is left of my late wife and my only family. (Well, besides the family you, Sarah, Moses, and me had many years ago.) _

_Many Thanks,_

_Henri_

_P.S. How is your family? _

James had to admit Henri was being a responsible father, sending his daughter away from the continuous threat of French turmoil, but could he have been a little more organized?

"I suppose desperate times calls for desperate measures." James muttered allowed, placing the letter back in his pocket.

This was Henri's way, jumping into situations without a second thought, and this time James could not blame him. When Henri arrived in France with Lafayette there was no denying trouble was brewing. A few more years passed and Henri had fallen in love with a young woman named Isabelle, who was equally prepared to revolt against an abusive monarchy. At seventeen they believed their love infinite, and so they passionately married. Soon they discovered Isabelle was pregnant bringing Henri inexplicable joy. Once again, he was going to have a family, the one thing he craved for since his parents' death.

But poor Isabelle was not strong enough to survive the birth of her daughter. Shaken by the tragedy, and continuing to fight toward a French Democracy (as Isabelle would have desired), Henri made a vow to protect little Ginette with his life.

If this send-off was the only solution to keep Ginette safe, than the situation in France must have been worse than James originally thought. Perhaps Henri would be less afraid to die if he was left alone to fight for his beliefs, knowing his daughter was safe. After all, Henri could have traveled to the United States too, but James knew full well Henri would never willingly give up his ability to fight for a cause. Whatever the case, rereading the letter was just what James needed. He was no longer apprehensive at the prospect of protecting this young girl but welcomed it as his duty.

All of the sudden the noise of the arriving ship hit James' ear, and he escaped his deep thoughts. He intently observed the ship's crew efficiently tie the boat, preparing for passengers and cargos swift exits. A few moments later, a young tired girl with a lightly warmed complexion left the ship. As she headed toward James, he clearly saw her chestnut hair and dark brown eyes. She was the image of her father though admittedly much more graceful and feminine. Her straight posture and directive walk indicated an air of confidence and command. Her expression, however, indicated a deep unsettling sadness at being thrown across the sea. James realized if anyone should be upset by the situation it was she. Separated from her brave father, conflicted country, and familiar culture the girl would most likely resent this young United States she now stepped foot in.

James approached the confused young girl.

"Miss Ginette LeFevbre?"

She nodded definitively.

"I am Mr. Hiller, your father's friend. I am here to take you to my household."

Ginette stared frozen at the lean blonde man. A strange thought entered James' mind.

'Surely, Henri taught her English as a second language?' he wondered, frightened if he had not. James could not comprehend much French. Without English what was he to do?

"I… apologize, sir. Tank you for your…uhh…houzzpiiitality." She finally stumbled through, unable pronounce the word her father diligently taught her. Her nerves were strong under each English word. It was evident she knew at least a little bit of the language.

"It is our pleasure." He replied, trying to ease her tension. She sighed at his kindness, letting the previously trapped air out of her lungs. James chuckled silently relieved as well, and grabbed the small bag she carried. The blue dress she wore was home to an array of wholes. Dirt and mud swept the hem as the thin material was worn. He noticed the raggedy state of her apparel realizing Sarah would wish to correct the situation as quickly as possible. With light steps, Ginette soaked in the surrounding city before following her father's good friend into the waiting carriage.

A/N: I don't speak French so I couldn't do much if that was the only thing Ginette spoke. REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yes, I know. This story isn't shaping up to be much yet. This isn't going to be a dramatic story. My intent was to make it comedic but it hasn't been thus far. So, hold on. It will get better. Soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Liberty's Kids or American history. So, please don't assume I think so.

Nervousness crept into the Hiller household as if it was a disease. Normally, this particular home was filled with warm voices, pleasant tones, and crowded energy. But now the drawing room held four figures, each preoccupied with their individual thoughts.

Mrs. Sarah Hiller anxiously anticipated her husband's (and new houseguest's) arrival. Rather than sit silently, she wandered through the room determined to execute every piece of dirt. However, she had been so incredibly successful with her first attempt, that at this point she was cleaning imaginary dust. Spotting her mother's apprehensive behavior, her eldest daughter, Ann, claimed there was no cleaner home in all of Pennsylvania, giving Sarah a few moments of comfort.

"Mother, this is a young child we are receiving, not the President! What will she do, throw a tantrum if our home is not spotless?" Sarcastically noted the middle child, Lucy.

"Oh Lucy, I do not ask for perfection, only for this house to be presentable." Sarah claimed defensively. "Why, the printing press itself tracks in enough of a mess! Isn't that right, Ann?"  
"Yes, Mother." Ann responded knowingly.

The sixteen-year-old replied as expected. Ann was not one to disagree with her parents. In fact, it had become her unspoken task to support them when need be. Her other two siblings were spirited redheads, bold and volatile in speech and nature, while she was the demure blonde. Well mannered and beautiful she reminded the other two that, as children, they must obey.

Her younger sister, Lucy, was quite the opposite. At fourteen-years-old, her spirit was far more adventurous. Lucy had assimilated her father's street-smart wit, frequently leaving home without a word to anyone, off to explore the city. Her mysterious departures did not go unnoticed and often frightened her mother. At one time, she was caught dressed in pantaloons rejecting her mother's teachings of what a "well-bred and proper lady" should be. Lucy's tomboy nature caused her mother much apprehension as Sarah wished her to be a gentlewoman like dear Ann.

It was bad enough to live in the shadow of a sister as light and feminine as Ann, but even worse was Lucy's differing physical appearance. While Ann had rosy cheeks, a small nose, flawless complexion and light hair, Lucy was fiery and freckled. Ann's eyes were her father's pale blue while Lucy's were strikingly green. Short and petite, Ann was everything her mother had hoped. Tall and slender, Lucy was far from it.

Still, their mother loved them equally. Taking a break from her arduous task Sarah observed her sitting daughters, noticing a fidgeting mass in the corner of her eye. To Sarah's right, unable to sit still on a decorated floral armchair, was Benjamin. As the youngest child he had far more energy than his sisters, and at the moment longing to run outside with his playmates. The past few days had been dedicated to an unnumbered amount of chores, frustrating his need for physical activity. Itching with eagerness he wished more than anything to leave. Why should he wait for a girl whose arrival caused this on slot of endless chores? Besides, he was forced to bathe for this unknown guest! He already disliked her.

"For goodness sakes, Benjamin, sit still!" Sarah demanded.

"I can't! I want to visit Nathaniel Greene! I am so bored!"

"Ben, do not whine. You'll have a new playmate soon enough. Ginette happens to be your age."

"Do you hear that? Ben is going to have a girlfriend! Wouldn't it be cute if he proposed?" Lucy teasingly interjected. Ben's face promptly turned as red as his hair, recalling his last encounter with love. Long ago, Lucy had caught a seven year-old Ben kissing one of the neighborhood girls. Later that day, Lucy told her younger brother he would die from the female germs. For weeks, Ben hid in his room crying hysterically at the prospect of a premature death.

His mother also remembered him in that unfortunate state, and glared at her daughter.

"Lucy…" Her mother said warningly, as Lucy herself gave an expression of innocence.

"I will not! I refuse to play with the French girl!" Ben whined once more. Following this statement, he proceeded to stick his tongue out at Lucy earning his mother's scolding glance.

"She has a name, Benjamin. I expect a little more respect from you. Her father is one of our most trusted friends and you will treat her as such. And, Lucy, do not tease your brother."

"Yes, Mother." Both children responded, though inwardly angry.  
The room fell still while Sarah reluctantly admitted there was nothing left to clean. Confused as to what to accomplish next, she took a look at her son's appearance and knew. Though he had washed the day before, his hair remained a mass of untidy curls. She could no longer hide her irritation.

"Benjamin follow me, we are to comb your hair once more."

"But, Mother, you have combed it three times since yesterday!" he replied in disbelief.

"Yes, and this will be the fourth. Come, now!" she ordered while guiding him towards the kitchen. "Daughters, wait for your father!"

As the two sisters were left to their own devises, Lucy eagerly jumped across the room to the front window. The street remained empty while fog began settling between random cracks. It was after all mid evening, Lucy reminded herself, and no human soul would be caught out. She remembered her younger days, when she ran to the exact spot in order to witness the busy streets of Philadelphia. Costumers buzzing in and out of shops, an array of newspapers being sold on the streets, and strangers rekindling past friendships all before her. But for now she'd have to settle for a shaggy wandering dog lost among the sidewalk as her evening entertainment. Most everyone was feasting on a hot supper as the sun carefully set. Her own stomach growled at the thought. Attempting to ponder a subject other than food, her eye turned to her older sister.

Though sitting in her previous position, Ann had evidently reached for a book when the other two left. Fixated on the page, her eyes did not meet Lucy's gaze. Lucy sighed heavily, forcing her head back toward the window.

"Are you bored or tired?" Ann asked gently, without lifting a gaze from the novel.

"If I said neither, would you believe me?"  
Shutting her book closed, Ann shook her head 'no' violently.

"Then, you know me well."

"Lucy, you are not one for subtlety. Besides, I only question because of your late night excursion." Ann hinted knowingly.

"What? What excursion?" Lucy deflected.

"Don't play coy, little sister. We share a room. I heard your footsteps last night, and if you ask me, you must be far more cautious."

"Well I didn't ask you, did I? Besides, I can take care of myself." Lucy claimed indignantly.

"I hope that is true."

Hoping to avoid any further remarks on the matter, Lucy divulged her inner thoughts.

"Do you think we will like her?"

"Who?" Ann softly replied.

"Miss Lefavbre, of course."  
"I am sure we will get along very well. Mother seems intent on it."  
"Yes, but mother's will does not make it so."

"All I mean is we must attempt to get along. We must be as empathetic as possible, she is far from her home."

Lucy silently agreed, staring into the murky evening in an attempt to search for her father. This time however she saw a figure hastily approaching from a distance. The possibility of a familiar face inspired a wave of adrenaline but the feeling quickly faded. Reminding herself that her father was to arrive in a carriage, she squinted into the dusk, barely making out a thin lank man. As he came closer, she recognized his protruding jaw, prominent nose, and abnormal height.

"Ann! You better see this!" Lucy cried, gesturing her sister to come toward the window.

"What? What is wrong?" Concerned, Ann hastened her way over.

"Look!" Lucy pointed straight toward the oncoming man with an abundance of aversion. Ann fixed her gaze and just as quickly gasped vehemently.

To both the girls' dismay, the man coming toward their home was Mr. Whipple, a man annoyingly insistent on courting Ann. Though twenty years older, the bony crone kept setting his sights on younger and younger girls. His first wife was only three years his junior, but tragically died of a mysterious disease. Heartbroken he found comfort in a girl ten years younger, but this new wife died of childbirth within two years. Unfortunately, Ann was the next to receive his attention, as he showered her with gifts and flattery. The poor timid girl never had the heart to outright reject him and was sympathetic toward his past. Yet this encouraged his advances, placing Ann in a dizzying trap.

"No, no, no! He can't be calling! Not now!" Ann cried, panicking.

"Do not panic, I will say you are not home." Lucy said, attempting to calm her worried sister.  
"That is lying! You shall not lie on my behalf! Perhaps he will simply walk by in passing."

"I would say that is the bigger lie…"

"What am I to do?"

As if she had cued it, a knock immediately followed Ann's apprehensive whine.

"Go upstairs, I will rid of him." Lucy said, pushing her sister toward the stairs. Ann complied hesitantly, stopping in the middle to look back at her younger sister.

"Go!"

Finally turning her head away, Ann climbed to the top.

"Who is calling at this hour?" Sarah asked emerging on her path to the front door.

"Mama, it is Mr. Whipple! I sent Ann upstairs to avoid any encounter. What shall I say?"

"Oh dear." Sarah knew of Mr. Whipple intended to, for lack of a better word, choke her daughter with attention. He would only stop until they married, but poor Ann deserved more than a socially inept widow. At the same time, she could not ignore his status and was determined to treat him with as much kindness as she could afford.

"Well, we certainly can not leave him waiting any longer. Answer the door. We will just have to improvise…"

After letting out a heavy breath, Lucy swung the door open to reveal the unpleasing figure.

In hindsight Mr. Whipple was not completely unattractive. His eyes were brown and somewhat appealing. His hair was…well…hair. At least that is how Ann tried rationalizing any thought at accepting his future proposal. Alas, just looking at his dry hands with their bony long fingers could make any women cringe. As Lucy constantly reminded her, his thin gangly body and sheer persistence outweighed any decent quality.

"Why, Mr. Whipple! What a surprise! What brings you at this hour, sir?" Sarah asked, greeting the unfortunate man.

"I apologize for this disturbance, Mrs. Hiller. I must insist on seeing Miss Hiller."

"I see. Well, here she is." Sarah fought to push her second daughter in front of the man, as Lucy resisted her mother's hand. Finally shoving Lucy in front, both gave a false smile.

"Here I am." Lucy said through a forced smile, as her mother pinched her arm.

"No, I am sorry. I mean the other Miss Hiller. Miss Ann Hiller." Mr. Whipple said, slightly confused but nervously laughing at their "mistake".

"Unfortunately, my eldest daughter cannot have any human contact aside from the family." Sarah quickly replied.

"Oh, surely I am like family to Miss Hiller." Mr. Whipple confidently assumed. "And to all members of the Hiller household." he hastily added so not to offend.

"Not quite…" Lucy muttered. "You see, Mr. Whipple, my older sister is very ill. It would not be wise to visit her. She certainly would be very distraught if you caught the sickness."

After a moment of silence in pondering the younger girl's words, Mr. Whipple began to inch forward, moving his way into the household. Slowly sneaking to the stairs, followed by the nervous females, he began a lengthy response.

"Although you raise a good point, _young_ Miss Hiller, I am afraid you are too much of a child to truly understand the nature of Miss Hiller and my relationship. _You see_," he said mocking Lucy, "it would be incredibly chivalrous of me to visit a beloved…friend. She would be impressed at my dedication and joyful while I am at her side. There is no arguing with the logic of emotion."

Mr. Whipple was approaching the top, only a few steps away from his heart's desire. His heart pounded with excitement. The thought of seeing his undoubtedly future bride under bed covers, only with a nightgown, was more than exciting for any man. His imagination was promptly shattered as Mrs. Hiller had had enough.

"Sir! You cannot be serious," shouted Sarah stepping in front of him as they reached the final step, "As her mother, I find this entirely inappropriate! You are not allowed into a lady's room, let alone an unmarried young woman's! Besides, my daughter needs her rest! Now, I suggest you leave so Ann can achieve a full recovery!"

After glancing behind Sarah in one last attempt to catch a glimpse of the young woman he so desired, Mr. Whipple gave up.

"Of course, you are most wise Mrs. Hiller." Lowering back down the stairs, Lucy noticed Mr. Whipple reaching into his pocket to take out a folded piece of parchment. Once again near the front door, Mr. Whipple handed the paper to Mrs. Hiller.

"Please give this to Miss Ann Hiller, and no one else. It is for her eyes only." He commanded, glaring at Lucy, catching her curious eyes.

He walked out of the house as quickly as he approached it, leaving the two women in a state of confusion.

"Is it safe now?" a distant Ann softly called.

"Yes, he left a note for you. Probably a love letter." Lucy dismissingly answered, as her mother passed Ann the note.

"Regardless, you will not find out. As Mr. Whipple said, it is for Ann's eyes only." Sarah said.

"At one point, I could hear him from my room. Did he journey upstairs?"

"Almost. Mama lectured him about the indecency of entering a non-married lady's room. You might want to know that for all intensive purposes you have a nasty illness tonight, which is why you could not endure Mr. Whipple's charming visit."

"Thank you!" Ann cried, hugging her mother and sister.

And though they had once again narrowly escaped the suitor's wrath, all three couldn't help but wonder how much longer Ann would rely on other's protection.

However, there was barely any time to dwell on the thought as the door suddenly swung open once more revealing a tired Mr. Hiller and a small brunette child.

A/N: Don't worry about Mr. Whipple, he'll leave Ann alone soon enough. Review? Please and thank you.


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